A Weasley Kind Of Romance
by addisonshay
Summary: "George, do you think this is one of those girl things where they say they hate you, but really they mean they love you?" "Fred, considering you just nearly killed her, I'd reckon not, mate."
1. Chapter 1: Eyes

A Weasley Kind Of Romance

Rated: T, I'm paranoid. I feel that little kids shouldn't be reading about, erm, "passionate snogging." (In later chapters)

Summary: 'George, do you think this is one of those girl things where they_ say_ they hate you, but _really_ they mean they love you?' 'Fred, considering you just nearly killed her, I'd reckon not, mate.'

Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from these stories, and all creative character rights (apart from my OC) belong to Ms. Rowling.

Main Pairing: Fred Weasley/ OC (Juliet Clearwater- Penelope's younger sister)

Chapter One: Eyes

Fred and Juliet's eyes meet. Such a momentous occasion it deserves a chapter. Oh, and it sets up the story.

-Fred-

"See any good ones yet, Fred?" George asked me, his mouth stuffed with sweets he'd smuggled in. My eyes roamed the cluster of young witches at the front of the great hall.

"I swear they get smaller every year." I said, shaking my head. "And this is one sorry lot."

A tall girl with braided hair whipped her head around to face us. "Are you checking out the first years? That's revolting."

George swallowed and explained. "Technically, m'dear, we are not 'checking them out', we are simply _prospecting."_

The girl huffed and turned back around. I leaned over to George to loudly whisper something regarding the girl, but the Hogwart's headmaster stepped in front of the first years and cleared his throat. The Great Hall hushed instantly, eyes peeled towards the ancient wizard as he began to speak.

Blimey, I know Dumbledore's a great wizard and all that, but he can ramble on for forever. My eyes started to roam the line of first years. They all looked the same, scared, nervous, hopeful, or at ease. I easily found Ron with his red Weasley hair, and I stared at him until we made eye-contact.

"I see lil' Ronny, look." I nudged George.

George snorted and played along. He cupped his hands around his mouth and mouthed "Mummy would be so proud of you." Ron read his lips and flushed a flaming red. A few first years snickered, seeing the exchange.

George and I coughed into our elbows until we managed to quiet our laughter. Thankfully, Dumbledore clapped his hands, signaling the beginning of the sorting.

"Abott, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Told you they were a sorry lot. A bunch of Hufflepu-" I mumbled to George.

The girl with the braids glared at us. "Would you two be quiet?"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The sorting seemed to go on for ages. George and I laid our heads on the table to rest.

"Clearwater, Juliet!"

George nudged me. "Poor thing, she looks like she's about to collapse."

I raised my head to see an incredibly tiny first year tumbling her way to the stool. Her face was brighter than Ron's hair; her legs looked like trembling twigs.

"Oi, Fred, I'll bet you ten sickles she's in Hufflepuff."

"Nah, she'll be in Gryffindor. But you're on, Georgie, Ten sickles." Why in the name of Merlin had I said Gryffindor? She climbed onto to the stool, her spindly legs dangling in front of her.

The hat was placed upon her head and promptly fell down over her hazel eyes.

I watched, intrigued, wondering what house this tiny girl was going to be in, and not just because of those ten sickles.

The hat twitched on her small head a moment, before roaring;

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I allowed myself a brief triumphant smirk at George before watching the girl tumble off the stool and dazedly walk towards the Gryffindor table. Our eyes met, for the briefest of moments, before she flushed a deep scarlet and took a seat next to Percy.

"Dear child, she doesn't know what she's gotten herself into, does she? Sitting by that pompous prat." I snorted.

"I reckon she doesn't. Oh, look, he's already sucking the life out of her, Fred."

We grimaced as Percy launched into a rapid monologue. The girl bobbed her head, animatedly, a small smile on her face. She was looking at Percy with a kind of reverence, and I realized she was probably a lost cause. Anyone who looks at Percy with a glow on their face is generally the kind of wizards and witches we steer clear off. It was a pity, really. She was somewhat pretty, for an eleven-year old elf or whatever she was.

"Fred? Fred? Did you hear me?"

"Mmm?" I asked, hastily piling my plate with food, pretending I hadn't just been ogling at a first year, an itsy-bitsy one, no less.

"It's a pity, that poor girl is being corrupted by our brother." George waved to some friends across the Great Hall, and cheekily winked at a Ravenclaw girl.

I agreed, it was a pity, a bigger pity than George ever needed to know.

-Juliet-

"Mum, what if no one likes me and it turns out I'm not magical after all and I'm cast out of Hogwarts and I have to live the rest of my life all alone because-"

Mum laughed lightly. "Juliet, dear, I promise you, nothing of that sort is going to happen to you." She bent down and planted a kiss on my nose. I wiped it off and glanced around, nervous, someone had seen.

"And, Mum, what if people think I'm too young to be at Hogwarts? Penelope said I look nine instead of almost twelve?" I looked up at her, she shook her head softly and gently pushed me towards Penelope.

"Come on, Juliet, I told Percy I'd meet him in the prefect compartment." My older sister, Penelope, impatiently stamped her foot of the ground. Her prefect badge glowed in the light of the station.

"Ooooh, you're going to meet Percyyy?" I squealed, stretching out his name. "Percy and Penny, flying on a broom, S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G, first comes the magic, then comes the love, and out comes a couple of-"

"Shut your mouth!" Penelope lunged for me, swatting. I danced out of her reach, towards the train. I secretly thought Percy Weasley was a dashing fellow, what with his intelligence and looks, but there was no way I was going to tell her that. She would hex me to Azkaban, for having a teensy-weensy crush on her, well, boyfriend.

"Be good, girls! I love you both! Penelope, do take care of Juliet, won't you, now?"

"Yes, Mother." She huffed and stormed aboard the train. I giggled and followed suit. I hoped she would let me sit in the compartment with her and Percy, I was wondering what Percy did all holiday. Perhaps worked on a very important essay or invented a new potion, something ambitious of that sort.

We arrived at their compartment, and to my dismay, there were two other red headed Weasleys sitting inside. I had been hoping that, when Penelope went to change into her robes, there would be at least a few minutes of alone times between Percy and I. My hopes were crushed and I saw the two Weasleys. Oh, drats, they were the twins, too. Penelope had told me all about them and their mischief making and wreaking havoc wherever they go. They were nowhere near as impressive as Percy, who actually did something with his life other than disrupt others.

"Penelope," I said to her, before she could slide open the glass door, "I think I'll just go find somewhere else to sit, maybe make some new friends?"

She beamed at me, clearly happy there was now one less person she would have to dispose of before it was just her and Percy. "That sounds splendid; I'll see you at the castle."

Well, alright then, it would seem I was on my own.

"Clearwater, Juliet!" Oh my, that was my name. What do I do now? OH, right, I walk up there…then what?

I tried to conjure up what I was supposed to do after walking up as I stumbled to the stool. Sit on it. My face was in flames.

I climbed onto the stool and looked around. Merlin, there were a lot of young witches and wizards here. It would be awfully dreadful if the hat decided I wasn't magical after all-

Suddenly, my eyes fell on the Weasley twins. They were nudging each other and gesturing towards me. How rude. Couldn't they sit still for once and show some manners?

Something dark fell onto my head and flopped over my eyes. It twitched and murmured in my ear.

"You've got the wit of a Ravenclaw, no doubt, just likes your sister, nice enough to be in Hufflepuff…but there's something more to you, something deeper, you've got some hidden nerve, my, and I can see your going to need it in the coming years…." The hat chuckled and I bit my lip.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I breathed and relaxed. Gryffindor! I had just gotten into Gryffindor! PERCY'S HOUSE! In a daze, I drifted towards where Percy was sitting, eyeing my fellow Gryffindors. I blushed as, for the briefest of moments, I made eye-contact with a Weasley twin-I think it was Fred- his eyes were a lot twinklier and lighter than Percy's. They looked warm and light and brown and nice and inviting and almost looked like they were laughing, but a kind laughter….

What was I going on about? This was Fred (or maybe George) I was talking about; the mischief-making- wreaking havoc- disrupting others- Weasley twins. They were NOT my cup of tea. No, no, no. Even if Fred _does_ have nice-ish eyes.


	2. Chapter 2: Mouth

A Weasley Kind of Romance

Chapter Two: Mouth

-Juliet- (Fourth year)

To say the least, Fred Weasley made my life at Hogwart's a living torment. On the very first day of classes, he told me he knew a shortcut to get to my defense against the dark arts class. He led me into some secret passageway he knew about, and told me to just keep going straight, until you find a door.

I followed his instructions, and when I opened the door, a wave of water gushed out and completely soaked my robes. Not only that, but as I stood in the doorway, dripping, screams erupted from above me and I heard a teacher bellow "GET OUT!" I registered where I was the instant the door was slammed in my face; the teacher's bathroom.

Soaked, I stumbled to Professor Quirrell's classroom and mumbled a pathetic explanation to him. He nodded bleakly and, stuttered, "Miss Clearwater, I'm-I'm a-f-f-f-raid I- I'm g-g-oing to ha-v-v-v-e to s-s-subtract ten…ah… points for late, um, -lateness."

The class glared at me, and a bushy-haired girl in the front row frowned disapprovingly at me.

That was just the first spell. In my second year, Fred dropped water balloons full of botuber pus on my head; and paid Peeves to run down the hallway shouting to anyone that I, Juliet Clearwater, had a crush on Harry Potter. Blushing, I cleared this up with Harry later, who just smiled awkwardly.

Third year, he jinxed me with a spell that made me scream "I LOVE YOU!" to anyone who touched me. And he also bewitched my textbooks to scream insults at me in class (Are you part pixie?) or (Your Mum is so ugly even a dementor wouldn't kiss her.). And, oh, how could I forget, there was the time Fred put an exploding snap card in my omelet. I was picking egg bits out of my hair for the rest of the day.

I thought he would never be able to outdo himself, and, surely, there were no more tricks, spells, charms, hexes, or jinxes he could do. I was mistaken.

"Bonne Matin, Juliet!" The Beauxbatons girl who I had come to befriended waved me over to her table.

"Hi, Claire." I sat down next to her and reached for a plate.

She turned towards me and I saw her eyes were alight and glowing. "Your friend, ze one who- ah, play ze tricks on you-"

I nearly choked on my pumpkin juice. "FRED? He is not my friend."

"Oh, desolee, well, he asked me to ze ball! I am soo happy!" She exclaimed. This time, I really did sputter out my pumpkin juice. Claire wrinkled up her petite nose at the mess.

"Claire, that's, uh, fantastic! Really, absolutely _excellent_! GREAT!" Penelope told me I was a rotten liar, and she was right.

She smiled at me, eyes twinkling. I felt quite guilty for feeling so…oh goodness, I wasn't jealous, was I? No, of course I wasn't. For Heaven's sake, I didn't fancy Fred Weasley. Maybe he would finally get off my back.

"Zere he is!" She lifts her head and points her chin towards a red-headed Weasley striding into the great hall. He has a dreadful smirk on his face, and I instantly know that's not George Weasley. Only Fred smirks like that.

"Oh, Claire, that's not Fred, that's his twin brother, you see-" Just as I'm explaining the confusion to her, a large brown owl swoops over the Gryffindor table and drops a red envelope on my plate.

I instantly scoot back from the table. My chair makes a loud screeching noise and all the eyes in the Great Hall snap up, towards me.

"Oh…no…"

The red envelope begins to sizzle.

"Is zat a 'owler?" Claire's nose is wrinkled again.

"That's a Howler, all right." Seamus yells.

"Open it, Clearwater." Another Gryffindor urges.

"I got one from my Gran once…I didn't open it…it was awful." Neville shakes his round face sadly.

Fingers trembling, I peel open the Howler. A pair of chapped lips emerge from the envelope, and, oh my word, I recognize those lips. My twelve- year old self fantasized about kissing those lips.

"Juliet?" A man's voice, strained yet stern. "I hate to be so terribly rude, but I'm afraid you have encroached upon my personal life for far too long. As a first year, it was tolerable, and I was patient. You were only twelve, and I couldn't bring myself to break your heart."

No, no, no. Please dear no. He's not yelling, but it's worse than that. His voice is horrifyingly calm, yet stern. It echoes across the entire school, forks poised in midair, all eyes fixed towards the small Gryffindor girl who just got a Howler.

"As time, went on, however, you became more persistent. Lately, your constant invitations to the Yule Ball have put my job, yes, my job, at jeopardy. Fudge threatens to hex the next owl that comes swooping into my office bearing the silvery invitation. And, surely, Juliet, you do realize I can NOT possibly leave my job and travel to Hogwart's just to attend a silly, trivial, ball? I have much more important things on my mind.

"Oh, yes, how could I forget, how dare YOU intervene with my relationship with Penelope? When you were younger, Penny and I were able to laugh at how you fancied me, but now, Penny threatens to end our engagement due to your jealous streaks. All I ask of you, Juliet, is that you PLEASE leave me alone, or I just might write to Mrs. Clearwater. I'm afraid I do not have the time nor the patience to deal with a little girl like you. Your feelings for me have crossed the line from flattering to _harassment._ I beg of you to stop before you embarrass us both."

I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. My face hurts and I try to swallow the lump that's building in the back of my throat.

"Best of wishes, Percy Weasley, Assistant to the Minster of Magic." The letter hisses and collapses in a mound of ashes on the table. Snorts of laughter ring around the room.

_ Percy Weasley? _

_ Oi, Clearwater got a massive crush?_

_ Juliet, I didn't know you fancied Percy!_

_ How desperate are you?" _

Tears pool in my eyes and I fight them down. I rush out of the Great Hall and into the first empty classroom I see, locking the door behind me with a charm. I feel so utterly stupid, crying and sobbing in a Hogwart's classroom, but never in my ENTIRE life have I ever been humiliated like that.

My stomach hurts, I can feel my breakfast rising. I lean over the wastebasket and vomit. _The whole school knows; they know you fancy Percy Weasley. Even worse, they know exactly how he feels about you; he positively hates you. _

I couldn't imagine a more dreadful situation, unless death eaters stormed the castle. Actually, I wish death eaters _would _storm the castle so this whole incident could be forgotten.

How could Percy do something like that? How could he?

Oh. My. Percy _wouldn't_ do something like that. Percy would never ever mortify me in front of the entire school. But someone would. Hot, white rage boils in my veins.

"Expulso!" I feel the ground shake. The door blasts inwards with a massive blast.

There he is. _That idiotic imbecile!_

I don't even have time to register the guilty expression on Fred Weasley's face before I lunge at him.

_SMACK. _The sound of my palm slapping his face echoes across the empty classroom.

I stand there, frozen, my chest heaving, rage and anger pouring out of me. His face is unreadable. We are rooted to the spot. My eyes are boring into his guilty- looking brown ones.

"Listen, Juliet, I'm sorry, I swear, I didn't know it was a Howler, I thought-"

"I don't care what you thought." My voice is freakishly calm.

"It's not as bad as it seems-"

His pathetic words trigger the rage in me.

"HOW DARE YOU? YOU- YOU ARSE! JUST WHEN I THOUGHT YOU COULD BE ANY WORSE-"

Fred puffs some air into his cheeks and looks around, bored. I want to strangle him.

-Fred-

At first, I tried apologizing and explaining the situation, but then I realized it was no use. She looked murderous.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, FRED WEASLEY!"

I thought about mentioning how much she sounded like my mother, but decided against it. Slowly, I dragged my eyes across her face, until I met her burning hazel eyes, magnetized by her scrutiny.

"YOU! YOU ARE AN INCONSIDERATE LITTLE- she was positively seething, and I relished the sight of her being so livid. "YOU'VE OUTDONE YOURSELF THIS TIME, !"

She looked quite cute when she was angry. Her face was a brilliant red color, and her eyes turned darker. She even had her hands on her hips, and for a moment, she looked like my Mum. Only younger and better-looking.

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? YOU ARE AN IDIOTIC, SELFISH IMBECILE-"

Merlin, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, the whole hallway was frozen and listening.

"I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING TO YOU! AND FOR SOME SATONIC REASON YOU STILL FIND IT SO DARN AMUSING TO PICK ON ME AND MAKE MY LIFE ABSOLUETLY MISERABLE-"

I decided not to explain the reason why I still "found it so darn amusing to pick on her", because, honestly, I didn't know myself.

"Hey, Juliet," I mock-whispered, leaning towards her, "The whole castle can hear you."

"I DON'T CARE IF THE WHOLE BLEEDING CASTLE CAN HEAR ME! YOU-"

She was close, awfully close now. Little wisps of hair had fallen out of her normally-neat hairstyle and were framing her face. She was biting her bottom lip while she sucked in her cheeks, breathing heavily.

"Alright, alright! I am _truly _sorry for the Howler, but I promise, I didn't know it was a Howler! The lady at Zinko's told me it was a simple letter, and if it hadn't of been a Howler, it might have been funny, and I did do a swell job at making him sound, pompous, didn't I?"

Her eyes widened and she froze. She was biting her lip awfully hard, it looked like it was about to bleed. Her eyes watered, oh please Merlin, don't let her cry.

"SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR MOUTH FRED WEASLEY! DON'T- " With that last scream, her voice cracked and she quite literally, burst into tears, before I was able to point out that _she_ was the one with her mouth wide open. Something wormed its way into my stomach, but I pushed it back down…it felt like guilt.


	3. Chapter 3: Arms

A Weasley Kind Of Romance

Chapter Three: Arms

-Fred-

"She slapped you?" George asked incredulously, eyes wide.

"Yep. Hard, too." I added. We were sitting on a rock under a tree next to the Black lake. It was freezing, and the water looked half-frozen, but I needed a private place to talk to George…about _her._ Little prat.

George sighed dramatically, letting out a puff of cold air. He crossed his arms and rubbed them, trying to get warm. "Fred, mate, don't curse me for saying this, alright?"

I shoved my hands deeper into my pocket, fiddling with the frayed holes. "A'right."

We sat there for a few seconds, during one of our rare moments of silent soberness. I looked out onto to the lake, and was slightly stunned as a group of giggling girls waltzed by. Not become they were pretty, which they were, but because_ she_ was with them. She spotted me, and shot me a look of pure hatred that could of melted ice.

"What in the name of Merlin are they doing out here? It's freezing."

George didn't have time to answer before I saw what they were doing. Viktor Krum was about to go for a dip. Right.

"Mental, mental, they're completely mental, the lot of them. Krum, too." I grumbled, averting my gaze as they giggled louder.

"I reckon you fancy her."

"Pardon me, George, my ears must have misheard you, WHAT did you say?"

"You fancy her."

"Are you- what…why…." I sputtered, completely flabbergasted. I was momentarily stunned while I registered what he was saying.

"That's mental." was all I could think of to say, trying not to act like I cared too much.

George coughed into his arm, it sounded suspiciously like "Juliet."

Sure, she was attractive and smart and…stuff, but that didn't mean I fancied her! I mean, merlin, she was an insufferable little twit, yelling her head off at me in the hallway, and then _slapping me!_ The nerve of her…I didn't fancy Juliet Clearwater.

And anyway, what would people think if we started going out or something? They would think we were mental! Well, people already think of me as mental, but this would soil my reputation for eternity. I couldn't just tease a girl for years and then _start saying I fancied her! _Thatwas ridiculous! I was Fred Weasley, prankster, ladies man, making sure everyone gets a good laugh. I wasn't the romantic who pines after some girl who slapped me and absolutely loathes me, despite having ever said it to my face. Merlin.

"Fred?" George said hesitantly. He had clearly expected me to sock him.

I put my hand inside my robe and curled my fingers around my wand. George had made me promise not to _curse _him, but he never mentioned anything about hexing him into oblivion.

George noticed my hand and took off running down the hill towards the lake. I laughed and whipped my wand out, chasing after him.

"Excuse me, pardon me!" George tore through the giggling gaggle of girls, who wrinkled their noses and stepped out of his way, clearly irritated their indiscreet-spy-on-Krum meeting was interrupted.

He was trapped. Behind him, was the icy cold lake, I stood in front of him, wand at the ready.

"AGUAMENTI!" I roared.

Unfortunately, just as the stream of water gushed from my wand, a girl threw himself in front of George, at the exact moment the gush of water was _suppose_ to hit George.

I froze and watched in horror and fascination as the girl was blasted backwards by the stream of water. It was almost as powerful as a muggle fire hose.

She landed with a splash in the lake.

George muttered some choice words- he had avoided the blow by simply stepping out of the way.

I stood there, stiff as a wand. All I could say was "Oh."

-Juliet-

I felt my body being blasted backwards, and then blackness. Then a piercing coldness as the icy water seeped through me.

"Ahh!" I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Water filled my mouth. I flailed my arms and struggled to kick up- something yanked my ankle and pulled me down. I kicked wildly; the thing just clung on tighter and began dragging my body downwards, deeper into the bitter cold water.

It was a grindylow- I could feel its sharp teeth prick my ankle; its slimy long fingers gripping my skin. I furiously thrashed myself, desperately escaping its hold on me.

The grindylow moved upwards, his fingers leaving their grip on my ankle to seize my neck. I choked on water and lack of oxygen as the creature started to throttle my neck, his mucky face inches from mine, beady eyes alive with the intent of murder.

My eyes closed as I struggled for release.

Numbly, I feel a pair of hands grasp my sides and pull me towards the surface. I take gulps of cold air, feeling it whoosh into my lung as a feeling of relief washes over me. I hear voices, at least three of them.

"Is she alright?"

"Crikey, Fred, you're an idiot."

"Angelina, I wasn't the one who decided to shield the git at the last moment."

"She's breathing! She must be freezing!"

"Thank goodness, Mum would murder me if she found out I killed someone."

"Let's take her to Madame Pomfrey."

"Wait until she can walk, George, I'm not carrying her there."

"You're an insensitive toad."

"She was heavy enough in the water; I'm not lugging her up to the castle."

"She's barely one-hundred pounds soaking wet, Fred."

"Says the twit, George, who can't lift his own bleeding trunk."

"Shut up!"

"You're the one who blasted her into the water, Fred, and nearly killed her."

"Yeah, but I saved her arse, now didn't I?"

"Hardly, look at the strangle marks on her throat."

"Dear Angelina, I know a handy charm to make those disappear."

"Fred, I doubt those spells you'd used to make _your hickeys_ disappear will work on strangle marks-"

"George, give her a tap to wake her up!"

"NO! That's-"

I felt a finger thunk against my head. Irritated, I opened my eyes and squinted up in the bright winter sunlight.

"Oh, thank Merlin, you're alive." That was Fred, of course.

I staggered to my feet, freezing, neck burning, sopping wet. I must have look liked a deranged drowned rat with rabies bites. I didn't care.

"Angelina, where's my wand?" I growled at her. She backed away from me. "Juliet, you really ought to lay down-"

_ "Where's my wand?" _I hissed. (A/N- completely stole this line from DH, one of my favorite scenes.)

The two boys backed up, looking mildly frightened. I stumbled towards Fred and got inches from his face, close enough to kiss- or spit. I could see every freckle, and there was even a faint red blush creeping up his neck.

"I hate you, Fred Weasley." I wondered if I truly did.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled profusely at the sight of me when I walked into the common room. I had dried myself off with a charm, but I couldn't get rid of the marks on my neck; they looked like love bites.

Lavender eyed my neck and traded secret-girl glances with Parvati. "We, ah, heard, you were rescued by a certain Fred Weasley's arms?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I was utterly confused for a few moments, before Parvati stepped in.

"Fred saved your life from drowning in the dark depths of the lake by sweeping you into his arms?" She made a scooping motion with her arms and fluttered her eyelashes.

I realized a rumour must have circulated that Fred Weasley had _romantically _rescued me from the lake, and scooped me into his arms like one of those stupid muggle-movies where the hot lifeguard rescues a dumb muggle girl. And apparently the fact that I'd been strangled by a Grindylow had been left out of the story. I imagined Lavender believed Fred had even performed CPR on me, (which is ridiculous considering we have spells for that sort of thing) which, according to Lavender's mind, led to passionate snogging, resulting in the marks on my neck.

I resisted the urge to strangle the both of them, where there would be no Fred Weasley to rescue her from my grindylow-like grip. In fact, there _wouldn't _be a Fred Weasley to rescue their gossiping bums, because I was about to take care of Fred myself.


	4. Chapter 4: Head over Broomstick

A Weasley Kind of Romance

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Series, it belongs to Ms. Rowling.

A/N: Sorry for the long update wait…. school started….(well, er, it may have started four months ago, but you know, it's a busy time. (Not really.) Anywhoo, thank you for your reviews and interest in this story! And thanks to OOT Obsessed for plot help!

Chapter Four

Head-over-Broomstick

-Juliet-

I tucked my feet under myself in the armchair, and stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace. The common room was deserted, but I lingered behind, awaiting the arrival of a certain red-haired _devil._

Always one for brutal honesty, I questioned myself as to why I didn't just brush off the incident. Act like it had never happened. Act like Fred Weasley didn't even exist.

But, for some inexplicable reason, I knew that would never be possible. And so I sat.

I heard the shifting movement of feet sliding on stone, and I straightened, ready to attack. It was a Weasley standing before me, but it wasn't the one I was expecting.

The expression of disappointment on my face must have been clear, or she knew my plan, because she laughed lightly. "Sorry…Fred's already gone on to bed."

I smiled tentatively. Ginny Weasley and I were peers, more than mere acquaintances but less than friends.

"Oh." was all I said. Discomfort was tangible in the air, but Ginny seemed perfectly at ease, plopping herself down in an armchair close to mine.

"So, I'd like to hear the story on you and Fred." She raised her eyebrows at me, and I realized she wasn't angry at me for positively loathing her brother. In fact, I realized, she just may _enjoy_ it.

"Oh, you know, we're just mortal enemies. He's just, um, never been the kindest wizard…sometimes his pranks tend to…well, you know what I mean."

She laughed again. "Yes, I can assure you, I know exactly what you mean. So, I heard on the rumour mill that he blasted you into the freezing lake today, is that true?"

I nodded. Her eyes widened. "He is so dead."

"Well", I conceded, "He did fish me out, though. Before the Grindylow attacked me."

"Grindylow? Wow….if my Mum found out, he would be in Azkaban right now."

I thought for a moment, tuning out Ginny's shock and threats. "Wait…I _think _it was George that saved me."

Ginny shook her head, red hair swishing. "No, no, it was Fred, I heard it mumbling about freezing his arse off in the lake today. I asked him what he was going on about….but…oh!"

"What?" I asked.

"What if we pretended it WAS George that rescued you?" Her eyes were glowing and alive with the reflection of the fire flickering in them.

I tilted my head, momentarily confused. "Erm, sorry, but what exactly would that accomplish?"

Ginny looked at me like I was a half-witted troll. "This is a perfect opportunity, Juliet! Dumbledore couldn't even open the door of opportunity any wider!"

I was still perplexed. "Okay, look," She said, slightly exasperatedly, "Dear chivalrous "George" has heroically saved you from the depths of a dark lake. And you, Juliet, are hereby head-over-broomstick* in love with him!

I waited for her to continue. "So, you need to completely _fawn _over him. Either snog him or stalk him or preferably both. See, they'll be ridiculously confused at your sudden change of heart, even though it makes sense."

"OH, I see what you are saying. Mess with their heads a bit, eh?"

The reflection of the flames was still burning in her eyes, framed by her fiery red hair. Ginny grinned wickedly. "Exactly."

-Fred-

"George, do you reckon this is one of those girl things where they say they hate you, but they _really_ mean to _say_ they love you?" I was lying on the dormity bed, with one leg crossed over the other.

I heard George sign, rather dramatically. "Fred, considering, you just nearly killed her, I'd reckon not, mate."

"Right."

There was a long pause, until I heard George's sheets rustle, and the sound of his feet hitting the floor. Within a few seconds, he had ripped back the curtains on my bed and was staring at me with a triumphant smirk on his face as if he had just conjured a brilliant scheme to defeat Snape.

"What, George?" I asked irritably. I wasn't in the mood for any possible pranks.

"Did I hear you right? Did you just finally admit you have feelings for the girl?" He raised his eyebrows.

"What? No, no, I-I didn't." I stammered.

"Sod off, George, I'm sleeping." I grumbled, rolling onto my side and pretending he wasn't there and that I hadn't just accidentally destroyed my dignity by admitting I fancied Juliet Clearwater.

He didn't let off that easy, though. He raised his eyebrows even higher, if that were possible. "Ho-ho-ho. Dearest Fred. You've finally confessed. You, my lad, are head-over-broomstick in love with Miss Clearwater." He sang.

"You sing worse than that Celestina Warbeck mum likes…." I grumbled, grabbing my wand and heading out of the dormitory.

"Wait, come on mate, I won't squeal your secret. But you need advice- which I have noticed you desperately need- you ought to ask her to that Mule thing coming up." He nodded his heard at me as if he was letting me in on some great secret.

"The _Yule _Ball?" I asked, sliding down the banister and sitting in an armchair. Even you-know-who was not going to get me to ask Juliet Clearwater to that ball.

"Yes, yes, that's the one! Witches and ladies alike love that kind of stuff! It's like their world cup! To them, it's one big competition- who's the prettiest, who has the best dress, the best date, who can dance the best-" George illustrated his point by waltzing wildly around the common room, and I watched as his left elbow swung and clanged into a nearby Knight with a loud clatter.

"HEY! YOU! WATCH IT!"

"Sorry, Sebastian, sorry." George held up his clumsy hands in mock surrender.

"_That's Sir Sebastian to you."_ The Knight grunted and, with a final clang, lowered his visor and froze.

George made a face at the Knight and turned towards me. Suddenly, we heard a high-pitched giggle. I turned around, and there, sitting in an armchair with her legs crossed in an awfully short nightgown, was _her._ _Merlin's beard, did that Grindylow leave those horrid marks on her neck? _

"Ah, Juliet, fancy seeing you here!" George waltzed over to her and held out his hand for a dance. I gave George my best "you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me" look, but he ignored me.

"I was just showing Fred here the proper way to waltz." He slowly snaked his hand around her waist. "Poor lad, he was born with two left feet."

She stopped giggling and glared at me. "Imagine that."

I returned her glare with equal passion. George laughed nervously and spun her away from my glare.

"Perhaps you could be of assistance, Juliet? Why don't you and Fred here have a go on the floor, and-"

"NO." We both said.

"Alright, alright, or I could just dance with you-"

Juliet smiled, and _I swear _she pressed herself a bit closer to him. "I'd like that much better, George."

George visibly gulped. Juliet leaned in close, until her lips were inches from his ear. "I wanted to say thank you for saving me today-"

George's eyes widened. "Oh, you must have been mistaken, I'm afraid that wasn't me who-"

She silenced him by pressing her lips to his. I heard a strange sound, and I looked down to find my wand snapped in two.

*A bit of background knowledge. "Head-over-Broomstick" is a Wizarding term first used in the early twentieth-century by Krinkle Kissington in his romantic classic, "Gone with the Muggles". Kissington's character is riding a broom one spring afternoon, when he sees the girl he is destined to fall in love with. Stunned by her supreme beauty, he promptly falls off his broom headfirst. It is the muggle equivalent of "head-over-heels," and generally is used to figuratively describe the feeling of "falling" in love.

This translation was provided by The Author, also known as the insane interpreter for the completely fabricated Wizarding terms she has created for the realm of the story because she has nothing better to do with her time, aside from mind-numbing mounds of homework. OH WAIT! That's right, it's Thanksgiving Break! Woo-hoo!


	5. Chapter 5: Outdoing Oneself

Author's Note & a Random Quote: "A great writer creates a world of his own and his readers are proud to live in it. A lesser writer may entice them in for a moment, but soon he will watch them filing out." AND HEY! You win a gold star if YOU, wonderful reader, can tell me who said this. :D

A Weasley Kind of Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of the characters, etc, etc.

Chapter Five

Outdoing Oneself

-Fred-

"AAGH!"

"It's a _splinter_, Fred." Ginny rolled her eyes, and resumed carelessly plucking bits of wand from my palm.

"Isn't there a spell for removing those?" I asked, barely keeping the strain out of my voice. Ginny exchanged annoyed glances with Hermione, who laid down her quill.

"What did you say happened, again?" She questioned.

"Um." _George is an idiot, that's what happened._ "I- er, my wand…exploded!" I said. Hermione raised her eyebrows quizzically and opened her mouth to retort, but Ginny exclaimed:

"Fred! Mum told you and George to stop treating magic like it's a game!"

"I know." I replied through gritted teeth as she plucked another wand bit.

There was a moment a silence broken by distant laughter. Ginny suddenly became intensely interested in my palm, just as she-who-shall-not-be-named and my satanic brother waltzed through the common room door.

I leapt up from my seat, wrenching my hand free of Ginny's grip. "YOU!" I roared, even though I wasn't sure who I was talking too. I lunged towards them, flinging my arms wildly until they connected with George's face._ Slimy_ SNOGGING _stupid _SATANIC _monster._

There was a sharp cracking sound, and I raised my arm, aiming to hit again, but George cowered, shielding my blow with his hands.

I stared in horror as trickles of blood ran from his face onto his robes.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

I barely had time to react before my body was thrown backwards. Something slammed into my backside, and the last thing I saw before I shut my eyes was Juliet's face, a pale mixture of panic and horror.

-Juliet-

Somewhere, a clock chimed twice, and I heard the shuffling and scurrying of students. Pacing outside the hospital wing, I stared at the pattern on the stone floor, thinking.

Well, I really didn't know what to _think_. But I _felt _horrible.

I mustn't lie. I knew it was my fault. I knew it my fault Fred got upset and attacked George. I knew why I even "dated" George in the first place. I could tell myself all I wanted to happen was to "mess with their heads a bit." I just…oh, I just wanted to make Fred jealous. Because, maybe, just maybe, a tiny, tiny, mind you, fancied him.

There, I said it. Now, I need to go in there and tell Fred that. Be honest with him, he deserves that, at least.

I need to swallow my pride, muster my Gryffindor courage, and do it. Maybe Madame Pomfrey gave him some medicine and he's completely out of it.

I sucked in some air and pulled open the great wooden doors to the hospital wing.

A horrible stench greeted my nostrils, and I quickly walked down the rows of white bed, laden with sickly students.

"Juliet!" A voice called. I turned and saw poor Neville Longbottom, his face swollen and disfigured so that he resembled a butternut sqaush. (A/N-if anyone gets that reference, I love you.)

"Oh, heavens, Neville. What happened?"

Even through his swollen face, I could see his face contort. "I…um…I got stung…" His voice faltered.

I decided not to ask what _exactly_ he was stung by. A few beds down from Neville, Fred was lying flat on a cot, staring at the ceiling.

Nervously, I brushed my fringe out of my face. (Oh yeah my oh-so great British jargon…in America they're called "bangs". Fringe is much better, if you ask me.)

"Um…helloooo…." I said awkwardly. My courage vanished when Fred turned his head slightly to the right, his expression unchanging.

"Clearwater." He said, his voice almost robotic. Since when had he called me Clearwater? I brushed some hair out of my face again, only to realize my hair was out of the way.

"Um, right, well, you see, um, I just wanted to let you know…" He continued to stare at me, his eyes boring into mine. Uncomfortable, my gaze flickered downward.

"My back's broken." He said. I gasped audibly and looked at him in horror.

He smirked. "I'm kidding."

I resisted the urge to slap him, considering I had really done enough damage.

As if he read my thoughts, he said; "I'm afraid you've already slapped me once, that deed is done."

"What's to say I won't do it again?" I challenged.

"You'd hit a crippled boy?"

"Fine, I'll wait for your back to heal and then I'll shove you off the astronomy tower."

"Not creative enough…. I mean, you've slapped me, and then you nearly broke my back… you're going to have kill me or something, in order to really outdo yourself on the next one."

Almost on instinct, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, just to the right of his mouth.

I gave him a small smile. "How's that?"

He nodded, staring at the ceiling.

A/N: Oh ho ho, what's going to happen next? This writer has no idea, but stayed tuned in the next month or so to find out!


	6. Chapter 6: Claire's Revenge

A Weasley Kind of Romance

Chapter Six

Claire's Revenge

-Juliet-

"Juliet!" The voice had a distinctly French accent, and I turned to see Claire rushing up to me, her scarf blowing behind her. " 'Ello, 'ello!" She exclaimed a bit out of breath.

"Hi Claire!" I said, positively beaming at her. "How are you today?"

Her face dropped. "What iz wrong with you?" She asked. "You are too…ah, happy, what is ze matter, did Fred die?" She asked.

I laughed. "Would you believe me if I told you I just sort of maybe possibly told him I like him?"

She stared at me for a moment, and the corners of her lips lifted. "Non."

"Wellll, I did!" I sang. She wrinkled her nose while simultaneously raising her eyebrows at me.

"Do you want to hear the story?"

"Ah…I suppose so…" She always pretended not to care.

"Okay…" I spent a few minutes enthusiastically explaining it to her with a few arm gestures thrown in. "…So, I don't know what came over me, but, well, I just leaned over him and did it!"

Claire bit her lip and looked thoughtful. I waited for her reaction. "Ah, why did you kiss George again?" Her tone sounded a little tight.

I smiled sheepishly. "…Um…to make Fred jealous. I know, I know. Ginny sorta talked me into it…"

"Ginny!" Claire cried. "Ze leetle devil!"

"Uh, what?" I asked.

"Ohhh, Ze leetle red-headed girl made you kiss George? She iz mental if she thinks she can get away with zat!"

Claire huffed a strand of hair out of her eyes, readjusted her scarf, and marched off.

I swore under my breath in French. "Merde."

-Fred-

I heard a moan beside me, and I looked to see a red-headed girl being wheeled in beside my bed.

"Oh, hello, Ginny."

Ginny groaned in response.

"Did Juliet almost kill you too?" I asked.

"Nggg, freen guuuu."

"Oh, her French friend?"

I saw Ginny's head bob up and down. Madame Pomfrey scurried over with a vial of some sort and pushed it up to Ginny's mouth. Even from here, I could smell the vile stench, like spoiled milk.

"Dear me, I'm afraid I've never seen this spell before, and I'm not quite sure how to remove it…" She fretted, peeling away Ginny's covers to survey the damage. I glanced over at her and nearly gagged.

"That's disgusting." I commented. Any exposed skin on her was covered in large boils, each sprouting a pair of human lips that made kissing sounds. Clearly Claire and Ginny had had a little spat….

"Oh, yes, that reminds me, Fred, dear, you're free to go, as long as you promise-" She wiggled her finger in what I supposed she meant to threatening "-to drink your potion!"

"Brilliant!" I leapt out of bed. "See ya, Ginny!"

"Eggg neeeg nnnhhhh." She moaned. "There, there." Madame Pomfrey said soothingly. "Just take a sip, dear, it's not that bad!"

I strode out of the hospital wing, whistling. Life had never been better.

A/N: Okay, I promise the next chapter will be better. I just wanted one fun comical pure fluff chapter to write, and this was definitely it. Hahaha Ginny, that's what happens when you play people. Ignoring the fact that Juliet actually kissed George…Ginny caused it to happen, though. Yeahhhh….I'm one of those horrible "I'm-not-fond-of-Ginny" people.


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